


Hardcore

by Sadbhyl



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantasies can come true, if you want them badly enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hardcore

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No sense of privacy was harmed in the writing of this story. Any injured copyrights were unintentional
> 
> Notes: This one is Scarlettgirl’s fault. She told me I was losing my hardcore edge. Bite me, woman.
> 
> Originally published November 16, 2006

Owen let his head fall back against the sofa, his eyes slamming closed. He’d had about six hours of sleep in the last three days, and it didn’t look as though he’d be catching up any time soon. The forensic evidence was clear only in that their serial killer was alien, and not something they had on record. Tosh’s tracking of all the surveillance was coming up nil, and even Gwen’s profiling wasn’t finding any consistencies. Until they caught this bastard in action, they weren’t likely to get much further.

The couch next to him sagged a bit as someone settled next to him. Cracking open an eye, he saw it was Gwen, looking as exhausted as he felt. His heart rate accelerated, but he just closed his eye again, hiding his reaction from her. “Anything?”

She didn’t say anything, but he felt the shake of her head along the cushions.

Half an hour. Maybe if he just slept for half an hour, something he’d overlooked would come clear. The others couldn’t begrudge him that much. And fuck them if they did. It wasn’t as though he could do anything more anyway…

A warm hand on his leg drove all thoughts of sleep from his head.

Owen wanted to open his eyes. He knew who that hand belonged to and wanted to see what Gwen was about. But a part of him knew that if he did that, she would stop, and he really didn’t want that to happen. Instead, he remained very still, feigning sleep as the warmth of her palm seeped into his thigh.

He couldn’t prevent the soft sigh that escaped when her fingers started brushing along his inseam. She hesitated, and for a moment he was sure she would stop, but instead when she started again she was bolder, drifting from his knee almost to his groin and back again.

When her hand settled over the rising bulge in his jeans, his eyes flew open.

Her own enormous eyes locked with his, challenging him, the corners of her mouth twitching in a wicked smile as her fingers worked his fly open. Panicked, he glanced around. Jack sat at his desk not thirty feet away, engrossed in stacks of files, his head bowed and unaware of what was happening practically in front of him. Tosh wasn’t much further off, scanning from one monitor to the next, still trying to track their predator. Ianto was absent, probably up in reception, but he could be down again at any moment. So for all intents, the two of them were alone on the couch, except for the fact that they weren’t.

“Gwen…”

Then her bare hand was easing his cock out, and he lost all interest in protesting.

She leaned forward when he turned back to her, catching his mouth with hers as she gently massaged his prick to full erection. Her kiss was as soft and pliant as he remembered, and he brought his hand up to hold her head in place as he explored deeper, savoring the salty sweet taste of her tongue, the warm suede of her palm along his pulsing cock.

At last she pulled back, breaking their kiss, the wicked smile curling her lips again. Before he could question her, suggest they go someplace more private and finish this properly, she had lowered her head, hot moist breath on his bare flesh stirring the sensitive nerve endings before she began lipping teasingly along the length.

Owen let his head fall back against the couch, savoring the feel of her soft lips on his shaft, her coarse, silky hair beneath his palm as he caressed her head. He’d fantasized about this far too often since their first kiss. To have it become real was more than he could have hoped for. He’d imagined Gwen would be aggressive, fearless, but right now she was exceeding all his expectations.

Her devilish tongue curled around his balls, drawing each into her mouth in turn where it was teased and tortured while her hand continued to almost negligently jack him. He wanted to coax her, encourage her, egg her on, but he didn’t dare make a sound for fear discovery would bring an end to his fantasy. Instead he tried to show her wordlessly, hands stroking her hair and back, finding the velvet skin between the edges of her shirt and jeans, his hips rising in sporadic response to her attentions, just enough to let her know what she was doing to him.

When she finally took his cock into her mouth, he couldn’t help groaning aloud.

He pushed her hair back off her neck to watch his length disappear again and again between her ruby lips. “You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?” he risked muttering quietly.

She shook her head, the movement adding friction to her steady suction. He could feel her smile, knew she was enjoying having this much control over him. He let her. It was worth it. It was worth anything that would happen later for this one perfect moment of pleasure.

Speaking of which… “Gwen,” he grunted, “girl, I’m about to pop. If you don’t want—”

She cut him off with a fierce pull, her thumb pressing just so behind his balls as her mouth began fucking him even faster.

“Jesus, shit, Gwen!” He came hard, the feel of her swallowing around him making each pulse overwhelm his last bit of sense. He moaned aloud when she pulled away and reached for her, needing to crush her against him, feel her, thank her somehow for what she’d done.

“Owen.”

He looked up bare inches from her mouth, straight into Jack’s stormy gaze. Letting his lips tease at Gwen’s, Owen never flinched in the face of Jack’s anger, knowing that Gwen was Jack’s protégé, Jack’s territory, Jack’s latest conquest. Except she wasn’t, was she? They all lost out to that tosser Rhys every bloody time her fucking phone rang.

“Owen,” Jack said again, his normal good looks twisted in dark threat as Gwen whimpered beneath Owen’s teasing. “Owen, wake up.”

Wake up?

He opened his eyes. He was still in the Hub, still on the couch, files across his lap, Gwen collapsed on the couch next to him, slumped away and sound asleep. Jack stood over him, hands on his knees to bring him close enough to wake Owen without disturbing Gwen. “You okay? You seemed to be having a hell of a dream.”

Owen shifted and was embarrassed to find he’d come in his shorts like a teenager. “Nothing special. Can’t even remember it now.” He rubbed at his eyes to feign truthfulness. In reality, he fought to fix the memory of that dream permanently in his mind.

“Why don’t you go home and get some real sleep?” Jack persisted. “Come at it fresh tomorrow.”

“No, no, ‘m fine.” He pushed himself upright on the couch. “Just need a shower and some more coffee.”

Jack looked doubtful. “Well, if you’re sure…”

Owen just glared at him.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Jack headed back into his office.

With a last ineffectual scrub at his eyes, Owen rose and headed back towards the showers. He paused at the end of the couch, drawn to Gwen’s sleeping form. It was so tempting to reach out and caress her tousled hair, to feel it soft and abrasive against his palm again…

He clenched his hands into fists and jammed them into his pockets. He would only ever have her in his dreams. He’d just have to settle for that.


End file.
